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Dreyer’s “Gertrud,” like the various installments of “The Bachelor” franchise, found much of its drama just from characters sitting on elegant sofas and talking about their relationships. “Flowers of Shanghai” achieves a similar influence: it’s a film about sexual intercourse work that features no sex.
But no single element of this movie can account for why it congeals into something more than a cute concept done well. There’s a rare alchemy at work here, a particular magic that sparks when Stephen Warbeck’s rollicking score falls like pillow feathers over the sight of a goateed Ben Affleck stage-fighting within the Globe (“Gentlemen upstage, ladies downstage…”), or when Colin Firth essentially soils himself over Queen Judi Dench, or when Viola declares that she’s discovered “a whole new world” just a number of short days before she’s compelled to depart for another one.
A.’s snuff-film underground anticipates his Hollywood cautionary tale “Mulholland Drive.” Lynch plays with classic noir archetypes — namely, the manipulative femme fatale and her naive prey — throughout the film, bending, twisting, and turning them back onto themselves until the nature of id and free will themselves are called into dilemma.
It doesn’t get more romantic than first love in picturesque Lombardo, Italy. Throw in an Oscar-nominated Timothée Chalamet for a gay teenager falling hard for Armie Hammer’s doctoral student, a dalliance with forbidden fruit and in A significant supporting role, a peach, and you also’ve got amore
Opulence on film can sometimes feel like artifice, a glittering layer that compensates for a lack of ideas. But in Zhang Yimou’s “Raise the Purple Lantern,” the utter decadence on the imagery is actually a delicious added layer to a beautifully created, exquisitely performed and completely thrilling piece of work.
Shot in kinetic handheld from beginning to finish in what a feels like a single breath, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne’s propulsive (first) Palme d’Or-winner follows the teenage Rosetta (Emilie Duquenne) as she desperately tries to hold down a career to guidance herself and her alcoholic mother.
Iris (Kati Outinen) works a lifeless-finish job in a match factory and lives with her parents — a drab existence that she tries to flee by reading romance novels and slipping out to her regional nightclub. When a man she meets there impregnates her and then tosses her aside, Iris decides to acquire eporner her revenge on him… as well as everyone who’s ever wronged her. The film is practically wordless, its characters so miserable and withdrawn that they’re barely in a position to string together an uninspiring phrase.
The movie’s remarkable ability to use intimate stories to explore an unlimited socioeconomic subject and common society like a whole was A serious factor during the evolution of the non-fiction variety. That’s many of the more remarkable given that it had been James’ feature-length debut. Aided by Peter Gilbert’s perceptive cinematography and Ben Sidran’s immersive score, the director seems to capture every angle in the lives of Arther Agee and William Gates as they aspire for the careers of NBA greats while dealing with the realities on the educational system and The task market, both of mobile porn which underserve their needs. The result is surely an essential portrait in the American dream from the inside out. —EK
These goodporn days, it can be hard to separate Werner Herzog from the meme-driven caricature that he’s cultivated Considering that the results of “Grizzly Man” — his deadpan voice, his love of Baby Yoda, his droll insistence that a chicken’s eyes betray “a bottomless stupidity, a fiendish stupidity… that they tend to be the most horrifying, cannibalistic, and nightmarish creatures during the world.
Navigating lesbian themes was a tricky undertaking during the repressed natural xhmaster environment of the early nineteen sixties. But this revenge drama had the advantage of two of cinema’s all-time powerhouses, Audrey Hepburn and Shirley MacLaine, from the leading roles, as well as three-time Best Director Oscar winner William Wyler for the helm.
Even better. A testament to the power of massive ideas and bigger execution, only “The Matrix” could make us even dare to dream that we know kung fu, and would want to utilize it to perform nothing less than save the entire world with it.
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There are caught assy babe holed in manic pixie dream girls, and there are manic pixie dream girls. And then — one,000 miles further than the borders of “Elizabethtown” and “Garden State” — there’s Vanessa Paradis like a disaffected, suicidal, 21-year-previous nymphomaniac named Adèle who throws herself into the Seine within the start of Patrice Leconte’s romantic, intoxicating “The Girl about the Bridge,” only for being plucked from the freezing water by an unlucky knifethrower (Daniel Auteuil as Gabor) in need of a whole new ingenue to play the human target in his traveling circus act.
From that rich premise, “Walking and Talking” churns into a characteristically low-vital but razor-sharp drama about the complexity of women’s internal lives, as The author-director brings such deep oceans of feminine specificity to her dueling heroines (and their palpable monitor chemistry) that her attention can’t help but cascade down onto her male characters as well.